Not The Usual Suspects
by aphtrashbin
Summary: Canada and Prussia, as unlikely as it seems, became lovers after the fall of the USSR and Gilbert's official change of status to ex-nation. These are the moments that got them to that point. (PruCan week story! Warnings for minor violence descriptions injury)
1. Under Better Terms (1- First meeting)

"Matthew dear, will you be a love and watch him for us? He's being a real pain for us…"

That was how it had started. Just an innocent question, one that Arthur was notorious for asking of him. Unfortunately, unlike his brother, _America_ , Canada- or Matthew as Arthur stubbornly referred to him as- was still under the control of the crown, despite his flimsy constitution.

Speaking of his twin, the man had apparently jumped ship, gone right on back to his country.

The year was 1919, and Matthew was tired as he ever had been, even with the Great War finally coming to an end.

But he had a rather unfortunate job, it seemed. The way Francis had described the man, _Prussia_ , to him, it made the German nation they had just pummeled into the ground sound like the master of escape and maddening to talk to, let alone negotiate with. Francis' advice had simply been to ignore him. Matthew had been delighted- watch a war criminal! That was exciting! He was thinking that maybe, the two were finally starting to trust him! After all, he had been through an entire goddamned war, had seen the exact same shit they had!

However, now that he was here, Matthew realized, with upmost irritation at his former mentors, current masters, he had been assigned the lame job, the cozy job. The kind of job that was so easy humans could attend to it.

"Ah! So they sent someone new to watch me!" A bright voice asked him with a laugh, his German accent marring even the language of nations that they a. "Man, I must be throwing those lil' humans a run for their money!" Though, Matthew had no ungodly idea why he needed watching by even humans- the man was both blind and wheelchair bound, it seemed, his eyes swollen and sightless from mustard gas injuries.

Matthew sat down, rubbing his temples.

"Awww, you're not even going to _speak_ with me? That's no fun. Surely you know at this point that this is rather pointless, the best thing you can do is at least entertain yourself." 

Matthew ignored him thoroughly. _Entertain you, you mean?_ The young nation thought to himself, bitter about babysitting this older man who clearly didn't need any watching.

The albino man, cracked his knuckles, and rolled his neck. "Mmm, by the way you're breathing and how heavy your tread is, I'd say you were Alfred, but you're definitely not him. He stopped by early to tell me that he'd make deals with Germany and myself, and he was tired of England tryin' to push him around." The man laughed. "He caught on a lil' late to that cheese, but whatever. I did tell him to side with me, at least _I_ wouldn't treat him like a colony!" He snorted. "Oh well. That's passed. Either way, you sound a lot like him- you're about his size, and if England and France sent you here…. Mmm, you're _Canada_ , aren't you?" He asked, before looking directly at where Matthew was sitting, making the young nation jump a bit.

Prussia looked at him a second longer, before tilting his head up and laughing. "You jumped? That means I actually figured out where your face was, didn't I?" The albino nation gave him a snaggletooth smile. "Well, your silence tells me far more. I'm right, aren't I? Far more than you'd like me to be."

He hummed, sitting back in his wheelchair, smirking.

"What are you so happy about?" Matthew asked, his curiosity brimming as he got to his feet, walking over to him and standing in front of him.

"They finally dignified me enough to give me a proper nation to fight." He said, smirking as his head raised up to look at him. "You breathe _really_ loudly." He said, pointing it out much to Matthew's confusion, before the younger nation was kicked over by one of his feet planted firmly in his stomach.

"Agh!" He cried out as he hit the floor, completely surprised as the older nation stood from his wheelchair, smirking at where he had heard Matthew fall.

"Step 1, _never_ , never ever, underestimate your opponent, particularly if they're older than you." Prussia said, leering at Matthew despite how he still had no eyesight. The Canadian attempted to role to the side quietly, but the older Germanic nation took his cane, and whacked him upside the head with it, making his ears ring. "Step 2, if France is afraid of me, you probably should be as well!" He laughed. "Then again, he knows if he showed me his fucking face, no matter how I was incapacitated, I would move heaven and hell in order to kick his backstabbing, bastardly ass."

"Holy shit." Canada said, breathless as Prussia circled him. "What the fuck- you're blind, and handicapped."

Prussia rolled his head since he could not roll his eyes in obvious frustration. "I'm blind, but like _most_ older nations, I am far more connected to my other senses than you young folk. I imagine France told you to be wary of me? And yet you didn't think that perhaps, I was feigning the seriousness of my injuries?"

Matthew scrambled to his feet. "What are you going to do?" He asked, frightened. He had heard horror stories from his men about this man, and suddenly, he realized- he was about a foot taller than Prussia.

"Damn, you're tall, aren't you?" Prussia muttered, in distaste at figuring that out. "Well, my plan was to break out of this glorified zoo cage, and go fucking find my brother and friends. We lost the war, yeah, we got it." He said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, I was unconscious and rather sick when the truce came around, but I'm not fucking unreasonable."

He took a deep breath in, and out. "So, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way, Canada." He grinned. "We've never met before, so I figure I would at least try and reason with you."

He took a bow. "Prussia, at your service. I'm like, at _least_ 3 times your age, and you can bet your ass that I won't be sitting here much longer. So I'll give you a few options- 1, you walk with me and help me find Germany. Or 2, I _kill_ you, and I go find my brother." He shrugged.

"Isn't there a third option?" Matthew asked, shocked at how overconfident he was.

He shrugged. "No, not really."

"What about if _I_ kill you?" Matthew asked, frowning.

Prussia snorted, rolling his head again. "Good luck with that." He said. "That's actually filed under option two, since you can't kill me. You smell of nothing but human blood- you've never taken the life of one of our kind. Even when you burned your brother's heart with England, England delivered the final blow to him. You're soft in ways that cannot be quantified."

Matthew's teeth grit in upset, but he softened when Prussia spoke again.

"I'm somewhat jealous of you. However, I suppose I did the same with Germany. I have never let him kill one of our own- it's a sort of innocence you cannot return." He shrugged. "In the event you do kill me, know that you did it to yourself."

Matthew paused, fidgeting now. "Why do you want to see him? Germany, I mean?" He asked, quiet.

He paused, sighing. "Isn't it obvious? I want to at least reassure him that I'm in one piece. Last time he saw me was England and France probably carrying me away, unconscious. For all he knows, I'm actually dead- like…not going to come back." He scratched his head. "I'd also like to make sure the same's true of Hungary, Austria, maybe Italy." He shrugged again, becoming rather conversational all of a sudden. "But I think Italy's fine, the backstabber hasn't so much as popped in to see me- but I have a feeling he's just fine."

"France made me think you were a monster." He murmured, and Prussia grinned.

"Why, I'm flattered he thinks that of me- I wonder what he must think of himself." He said, chortling. "Eh. I'm not bothered by it any more. It's been a long time since I got used to him calling me such."

Matthew frowned at Prussia, who seemed to be nothing but truthful to the point of bluntness. "Alright- I'll take you to see Germany." He agreed. "Get back in the wheelchair, though…" He murmured, and Prussia smiled a bit more genuinely.

"Ahah, you're a smart lil' nation, aren't you, Canada?" He said, sitting right on back down in the wicker object. "Maybe I can find my poor little Gilbird…"

"Gilbird?" His confusion was obvious, and Prussia laughed loudly.

"It is a strange name! But it's my human name, made into a cute little pun for my pet bird!"

"…Gilbert?" He deduced, and Prussia nodded sagely.

"Yep, that's me!" He said, allowing Matthew to push him.

Matthew's footsteps were still loud, and he had since gone quiet.

"You miss your brother too, don't you?" Prussia asked, unfortunately hitting the nail on the head, and the younger nation stopped.

He sighed, looking at the floor. "I do. It's a similar situation, I suppose, which is why I…I sympathize with you, somewhat. I can't imagine being in your place, where you actually have a good relationship but you think the other might be dead- no…America and I have been on bad terms for the last century." He murmured. "We occasionally talked toward the end, but its _weird_ between us, and I don't know how to fix it."

Prussia hummed. "Alfred was heartbroken when you didn't go with him, and again when you and England hurt him in such a personal way." He said. "But you don't seem like the type to want to go through with such a hard separation from England…" He acknowledged. "You seem like a survivalist, and so you stuck with England over going along with your brother."

"More than that- I feel like I'm always pressured by forces within my own being…I, Matthew, I want to go with him- he's my brother, Alfred, and he's cared about me since day one. But Canada doesn't want to be with America, and so I cannot."

"The pressures of your people are a powerful thing- going against them can tear you apart and ultimately kill you." Prussia agreed, quiet. "Your brother understands- the only way to make it less awkward is to just…deal with it." He shrugged again, noncommittal. "It's how Austria, Hungary, myself, have all dealt with the changes in our friendships over time. We really do generally like each other…but, _but_ …." He sighed. "Of course, we have to follow the desires of our people over our hearts." He paused. "It gets easier, with more time and with more instances between you." Prussia looked up at him.

"I'm sure your brother would be more than happy to talk with you- no matter what happened. And, you know what, you seem like a more rational fellow than England or France, and I'd be happy to talk to you just as I've helped Alfred."

Matthew looked at him, and the man's smile, and he felt something rather inappropriate in his chest. Something that felt suspiciously like his heart beating faster at seeing

The man was attractive, and muscular and proud. All of those were Matthew's turn ons. He was also invested in family and being supportive.

Shit. Matthew frowned as he looked at him. He had also proven completely capable at dominating when he wanted to.

Matthew was _in_ trouble- this nation was _hot_.


	2. Drunken Confession (2- Treasured Memory)

After the world had settled with the fall of the Berlin Wall and the close of the Cold War with the reunification of Germany and the collapse of the USSR, Canada and Prussia had at some point found themselves in each other's company.

Which was great, since as Canada had found, Prussia was just as open to any sexual encounter that the younger nation could offer.

Which was actually what had gotten them to this point.

"Yo." Gilbert said as he showed up to his hotel in Munich, Germany, with take-out. "Figured I'd say hi- I was on my way to see my bro in his place when I got the call not to come." He shrugged. "Lucky bastard is getting laid, I dig it, and I know you might be open to it."

Matthew raised an eyebrow at the short ex-nation, and sighed, opening his door. "C'mon in, Gil. Lord knows what Alfred's up to."

"Probably finally catching a _break_ is what." He snorted in amusement. "That Cold War must have given him an awful headache and superiority complex!" Prussia exclaimed, setting down the food on the countertop of his room.

A laugh came unbidden from Matthew's mouth, making Prussia turn to him with quirked lips, questioning him with a single raised eyebrow. "As if the end of the cold war marks the end of America's superiority complex." He said, rolling his eyes.

Prussia laughed with him, nodding. "You are right, Canada." He agreed, sitting down on the man's hotel couch. "Man! This place is comfy! Living the high life in Munich, eh?" He grinned. "The Western part of Germany has it good!" His voice did well to cover his bitterness slightly, though it wasn't completely hidden.

"Do you need a drink?" Matthew asked, and Gilbert sagged, his head dropping as his grip on his pants tightened suddenly.

"Yes, _please_." Gilbert muttered, sounding exhausted as he refused to look up at him again.

XXXXX

A lot more alcohol than Matthew had been expecting, Gilbert was relaxed, sleepily leaning back against the couch. "Ugh, _Matthew_ …" He whined softly, rubbing his eyes. "What's good about this world? It's always seemed to me that you suffer and then you die." He muttered pointedly. "There's some good stuff, but…does it outweigh all that bad stuff?"

"Does that mean you haven't enjoyed the sex?" Matthew asked, getting tipsy himself, looking at Gilbert with a raised brow and mild irritation.

"No, no!" Gilbert corrected himself quickly. "Of course I have! But…I mean…" He sighed.

"Don't you have _good_ memories?" Matthew asked, satisfied that his partner was satisfied with the state of their relationship.

"Do _you_?" Gilbert asked pointedly, and Matthew was taken aback.

He stammered for a moment, before nodding firmly. "Of course I have! I mean…"

"Tell me about them." Gilbert said, looking to the ceiling. "What's your most treasured memory?"

Matthew paused, looking down at his drink, and setting it down, pulling his occasional sex partner against him, the man not resisting at all.

"Hmmm…" Matthew hummed. "Well, that's hard to say- I have a lot of good memories…probably the one that stands out the most to me is from my childhood, Francis bringing me gifts and taking me into his care." He admitted. "It was weird, but it was nice too…Alfred was strange, and he loved me, but this was different…" The younger nation paused. "Perhaps it was because, unlike Alfred, Francis could take care of me, keep me safe."

"Man, you kids make me feel _old_." He said, laughing. "I'm such a cradle-robber!" He joked, shaking his head as he kissed Matthew's neck.

Matthew looked worriedly as the silence dragged on between them. "What about when you were a kid?" Canada frowned, and Gilbert smiled sheepishly.

"Well." He paused, thinking. "I… Don't have any memories like that. I mean, my first 30 years of life I spent on my own, fighting other nations. Sure, Germania picked me up and took me south, but by then, I wasn't really in need of protection anymore. It was nice living with other nations, but once Rome and Germania died…"

Prussia licked his lips. "Let's leave it at I didn't have a happy childhood."

"Gilbert, _surely_ you have some sort of precious memory too?"

"Eh." The man shrugged. "Maybe the day I founded Germany, Lutz was a very cute kid…" He smiled in remembrance, looking rather nostalgic.

"Is that it?" He asked, looking at him confusedly. "Rome and Germania? They died well over a thousand years ago."

Gilbert gave him a sour, tired look. "I've had other happy moments, just not a happy childhood…"

"Then what else, since you have to have better memories than that!" He said, frowning. "Than just meeting your brother?"

The German man looked thoughtful. "Yeah, there was another time." He said, grinning a bit at him, shaking his head. "I doubt you think it was precious, but it was a nice…reminder of humanity in our kind."

"What are you talking about?" The young nation blinked, confused.

Gilbert laughed, snickering at Canada's drunken, confused face. "The first time we met. That's a treasured memory of mine. I doubt it makes sense to you- since I had just lost a war, but that's precisely it. I lost my last war as Prussia, and I met perhaps one of the most confusing nations I know, as well as one of the hottest, though I had no way of knowing that when we first met!" He reminded sharply.

"Oh yeah…you were blind." Matthew thought back. "You gave me a run for my money."

Prussia grinned, looking like he felt better, before he climbed over Matthew, and gave the man a kiss. "You made me feel like I still had some dignity. And I rather liked the sex we had after I could see again…" he whispered, biting Matthew's neck playfully.

"You!" Matthew gasped, aroused by the sensation even as Gilbert pulled away, leaving the younger nation to whine. "That's playing dirty- you're too tired to follow through!" He complained even as his partner laughed at his flushed face.

"I know that!" He joked, playful, even as he started to wind down. "Well…the alcohol did its job…" He murmured, yawning as he gripped Matthew tighter.

"What was that?" Matthew asked, confused even as he started to give into the intoxication.

"To get me to confess! I wanna date you…" He mumbled, smiling sleepily. "If you'll have me." Before Matthew could even get a word in, the man had closed his eyes, and had his breathing even out.

"You're not romantic…in the slightest." Matthew said, exasperated as he pulled the smaller, thinner man onto his lap. "But you are my type…so…." He cuddled with him as he laid down, spooning Gilbert. "I'll just have to tell you tomorrow, that, yes, of course I'd date you…"

The two were snoring softly in the next hour, but not after Gilbert had a huge smile break out on his face for playing sleeping drunk to get Matthew to be honest with him.

This would be a treasured memory for the albino ex-nation as well.


	3. Not A Usual First (3- First Date)

"You know, I had never told anyone that I knew Rome and Germania." Gilbert was musing as he pat down his dress clothes. Matthew had asked him out on the last day of the 1992 World Meeting, and so he figured that after getting so drunk at his home, he owed the man something.

"Really?" Matthew looked interested, his eyes widening. "That's pretty cool though- why don't you tell them?"

Canada was similarly dressed, having asked Gilberts opinion on a nice restaurant, and then asking him out to it. The ex-nation had readily agreed, not yet allowed to assist Germany in his work. It was hard, since he was without purpose for the first time in a long time.

Prussia laughed, shaking his head. "Well, _most_ of them- well actually... _Many_ of them _knew_ me, but they don't know it was me. They just know that young me as a scared boy that died many years ago." He rubbed his temples. "I don't like being pitied, and many of them caused my suffering- I don't mind it now, of course, I paid them back in kind and killed my fair share of other nations, but…" He shrugged, noncommittal. "It won't change anything if they were to know about all of my baggage."

The younger nation frowned, but pat the small, ex-nation on the back. "How old do you think they believe you to be?" Matthew asked, interested, and his snickered lightly as they walked through the cold spring air.

"Heh, most of them would place my creation around the time of my renaming to become the Teutonic Knights." He said, nodding. "And, that's _old_ , might I say! In the 1100s!"

Matthew stared at him in disbelief. "And you're older than that?" He asked, pausing in thought, Gilbert nodding enthusiastically.

"Hell yeah!" He grinned. "My ass was on this earth before Christ's was!" Prussia stretched a bit. "We're getting close- enough questions about my past though. I spend enough time thinking about all of that already! I want to talk about the future!"

Canada paused, before he laughed. "Pardon me, I think it's cool- Francis and Arthur hate talking to me about the past."

Gilbert nodded, sagely. "Of course they would. They- like all of us older nations- tamed with time. But, at a different rate than myself- I'm not going to paint myself as some saint, I did kill my own mother, but I wasn't like them." He revealed. "I never became a true Empire, in the sense that Spain, France, England, Russia, and now America did.

"Your own mother?" Matthew said, surprised, and Gilbert shrugged.

"Germania and I were a lot closer than me and Old Prussia." He said, sighing in regret. "I did kill her, I didn't know that she was my mother until after the fact." Prussia grumbled. "Matt, I thought I said I was done talking about my past!" He whined, leaning his head on his partner.

"Alright- alright." Matthew laughed as he wrapped an arm around the shorter German. "I expect some dirt on Francis and Arthur, though!" He exclaimed, kissing Gilbert's forehead as the German readily agreed to it, the two being led to their private dining room.

XXXXX

"And that, Matthew! Is why Arthur still calls him a frog!" Prussia and Canada were sitting over their entrees and drinks, laughing about Gilbert's old stories about Arthur and Francis' antics as children.

"Man!" He laughed. "Why haven't you told these before? They're such great stories!" Matthew was having a hard time breathing from laughing so hard, as well. It was so laughable to think that Arthur had cursed Francis to literally be a frog, and see the French nation accustom so easily to eating bugs and such- but it was easily pictured.

Gilbert was calming down, letting his laughter wind to the end. "But yeah, I suppose they are good stories." He murmured. "Eh." Prussia shrugged. "I've never been a happy person by nature- I write down everything that's happened to me. I can hold a grudge for a long time, as Francis will notice." He said malevolently.

Matthew frowned at his date- being reminded of something. "Francis did mention that you were refusing to speak to him, why?" He asked, swirling the wine in his glass.

Prussia paused, seeming taken aback. "Well. That should be obvious, Matthew. You see me now, in 1992, but you didn't see me much in 1989, when the wall first came down…or much of the time in between when it went up and then." The man looked into his palms. "Please, I'd rather not think about that- it'd totally ruin our first date. I've been looking forward to this for a really, _really_ long time, Matthew!" He said, pleading.

The Canadian nation sighed, shaking his head. "Gilbert, please. I want to know more about you- okay? I'm…I'm not your first, in anything. You're so much older than me. I want to be something different." He explained.

The petite nation frowned, before leaning over to steal a kiss from Matthew's lips. "Well, that's not my first kiss." He admitted. "But you're the first nation I've ever dated." Gilbert smiled, nuzzling the man. "You're the first nation I've admitted to…about being so old, and being terrified of their pity." He recounted. "It's hard, since I want to share all of that with you, but its terrifying Matthew." He laughed.

"You're my first, maybe not sexually, but the first person I've cared enough to have so many encounters with. I'm terrified that I'm going to lose you, or fuck it up someone. You're the first person I've been afraid of that happening with." The German was blubbering now, uncertain of where to stop, and so Matthew stopped him with a firm, silencing kiss to his lips, making the ex-nation lean into his embrace.

"That…makes me feel a lot better, Gil." He said softly, hugging the man tighter. "I'm glad- I'm so glad you like me."

"I think it might be more severe than that." Gilbert muttered, embarrassed, and when Matthew looked at him in shock, Gilbert explained sheepishly. "I've made it my calling card to never sleep with the same person more than 3 times." He murmured. "You and I both know how many more times we've done it…" He coughed, and Matthew went red, a smile on his face as Gilbert muttered that he was the first person to have the honor of topping him.

"You look as smug as your brother there! Where's my sweet birdie!" He complained as Matthew paid for their meal.

"Getting ready for dessert." Canada teased. "And hoping for some sweet toppings to go along with it."

Gilbert's eyebrows raised as his face went flush, but the man only nodded, biting his bottom lip flirtatiously as he looked up to Matthew.

"Only if you try something other than vanilla, this time." Gilbert teased right on back, winking at Matthew as he got up, shaking his ass a bit teasingly, much to the scandal of the staff of the restaurant.

Matthew was plenty happy to try other flavors, as it turned out.


	4. Can't Take the Heat (5- Vacation)

"I. Hate. Summer." Gilbert's voice was flat and it was clear the man was irritated at the world.

Matthew only laughed at his upset looking lover. "Come now, Gil, surely you can enjoy a beach? Alfred gave me the house, I thought it was nice enough to have you with me…" He said, suggestive, and Gilbert whined.

"Canada! I would love to do it if that's what you _meant_ , but I still _hate_ summer!" Prussia grumbled, folding his arms tight. The man was wearing a sweatshirt, which Matthew thought ridiculous, since he was pale and was wearing full clothes with long sleeves and long pants.

"Maybe you could finally get that tan…" Matthew mused on his pale-skinned lover, who was setting out his towel, grumbling about how he was _albino_ , and _couldn't tan worth a shit,_ and _I wasn't made for this shit._

"M' not swimming." Prussia said stubbornly, this time completely out loud, meant for Matthew's ears rather than his own salty mutterings, still clearly bitter even in the relaxing summer air.

"Suit yourself." Matthew shrugged, heading out to the water to enjoy himself. Truly- why didn't Gilbert want to have fun? The man was lying down on a towel on the sand, facedown with his head to the side, covered by his hoodie.

Alfred had rather generously offered him his beach house, knowing that Matthew was dating someone but hadn't figured out who yet. Gilbert had immediately disabled the cameras in the place, Matthew being a bit afraid to ask where he had learned to do that.

Either way- Matthew's place didn't have a lot of beach that he could go to and have fun like this at! He figured it was high time to relax, and Gilbert was bound to have his own way to do that, though it seemed to be rather tame for the older man who enjoyed loud and exciting things.

Matthew was a good swimmer- nothing like his _brother_ , who swam like a thing from the ocean, but he was pretty good. He entertained himself by bodysurfing for a long while, before he headed back into the beach, and plopped down with a towel around his shoulder right besides Gilbert, who looked dead to the world.

Matthew laughed quietly, slowly pulling back his hoodie, and patting Gil's white hair gently so as not to disturb him. Gilbert had reflexes, especially in his sleep. He hated being woken up suddenly, often jumping out of sleep with a racing heart and eyes that saw only the past, which Matthew was coming to understand wasn't nearly as nice as his own lovely childhood.

After spending some time with his sleeping lover, Canada got up, and decided to make a sandcastle, not really wanting to disturb Prussia since he finally seemed to relax. That was what this was for, after all, who was he to criticize if Gilbert only wanted to sleep?

Another 30 minutes spent, Matthew realized that this beach vacation was going to be horrifically boring if his lover only slept during it and didn't try and have fun.

So, with that, Matthew lay down, and hummed, looking at his lover's slack face, since he knew that Gilbert often looked rather cute in his sleep, debating whether or not he wanted to try and wake him up.

However, Gilbert… didn't look cute, his brow was furrowed, and he was…panting a bit? The side of his face was turning bright red, looking sunburnt. He had only been in the water for 30 minutes or so, and then spent another 30 building that sandcastle? Was Gilbert having a heatstroke?

Well, it wouldn't come as a surprise, since he was wearing a sweatshirt, and pants. But, he was young? Sort of…well, not really.

Matthew didn't really know what to do other than to pick him up, feeling how limp Prussia was and realizing they were probably in trouble if he wasn't stirring at the manhandling Matthew was giving him. Well, _shit_.

XXXXX

After carrying him back to the beach house, and undressing him, keeping him in a cold bath, Matthew was calling the hospital, asking for directions on what to do. He didn't have his desktop with him, and so didn't have any access to what the web might say.

"It does sound like heatstroke. Risk factors include age" _check_ , "Humidity…" _Check._ "Drinking alcohol excessively," _DEFINATELY_ _check…_ "Along with being in urban areas lacking good ventilation, certain health conditions, including a few mental illnesses along with many medications" _check, check, check…_ "And you don't have a thermometer, but you are attempting to cool him down?"

"Ah, yes." Matthew agreed. "We were visiting- I'm from Canada, he's from Germany. My brother offered us the place… I don't have any claim to insurance here, and neither does he, so I wanted advice."

"Well, at some point he needs to see a doctor- if he's unconscious, then he's likely in a critical state. I strongly recommend seeing a medical professional if he doesn't wake up in the next few minutes. Even then, you should see a doctor." The person on the phone sounded very uncomfortable.

"Ugh…" He muttered, upset he was going to have to pull "rank" in order to get Gilbert the help he needed for a vacation. "Fine, I have an access code you need to type in…"

"Sir? What sort of access code would you have?" The operator asked, even as Matthew started listing out his code. "O-oh." The human said, and typed it into the box, before Matthew heard the phone redirecting.

"Hello, Mr. Canada." A new voice was speaking. "We were not aware of your visit to the United States. As it stands, Mr. America-" Matthew cut them off, irritated.

"I am well aware my brother is abroad in Europe at the moment, I was offered this as a personal visit with my friend." He ground out. "Now, I was on the phone with 911 since said friend- a representative from Germany, is unconscious, probably with heatstroke. I hate dealing with you, but I'm manipulating some strings since he needs emergency care. Now get your _asses_ out here before I decide to call my brother and tell him exactly how unhelpful you are." He grumbled, and the person, sufficiently cowed by the nations speech, agreed to send an emergency vehicle tailored to the two nations interests.

He looked at Gilbert, and frowned, figuring he should have been a bit more interested in why Gilbert was upset about being out in the summer sun.

XXXXX

"Hooly shit I've been run over by a car, or blasted by a fucking shell, or something, good lord." Prussia's first words when he came to were slurred and confused. Canada snorted.

"You got heatstroke." He corrected, leveling Gilbert a stare as the man cracked an eye open to look at him.

"I hate summer." He said, instantly. "Fuck." He complained, rubbing his head, likely suffering a headache.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Matthew asked, upset. "I wouldn't have been mad, but now you're in the hospital, lord knows you could have _died_ from that…"

It was unspoken between them that there was no guarantee that he would wake up again, and Prussia's demeanor fell substantially, curling in on himself.

"Matt…"

"Don't "Matt" me!" He cut him off, angered by the soft nickname. "You need to be more careful!" Canada was clearly also upset, and Gilbert looked away, upset.

"I'm sorry." Prussia murmured. "It was stupid- I know I don't handle the heat well, but you looked so excited… I didn't want to be a buzz kill for you."

Matthew softened, remembering that Gilbert was a proud man, who put others needs before his own. This seemed vain, but it was less so when reminded that he literally had died many, many times for the sake of his family and allies, from stories that Gilbert had told him.

Slowly, he pulled Gilbert into a hug.

"Don't scare me like that!" He said, kissing his cheek. "You really frightened me, I worry about you." Matthew ruffled the man's hair. "Why don't you handle heat well?"

Gilbert laughed a bit. "Oh…I was born in the winter- in the snow, really…It's actually funny. I'm immune to General Winter."

Matthew gawked. "What? You see him too?"

"Well, not anymore!" He quickly specified. "But I did a lot growing up. My first name was a name of a Northern Germanic tribe. I do better in cold, a lot better in the cold." He nodded.

"Well, maybe we should do a ski trip rather than a beach vacation…" Matthew suggested, making Gilbert nod excitedly.

"Hell yeah! I'll kick your ass!" He grinned at Matthew as he pulled away, looking entirely overconfident, and Matthew's own competitiveness in the area of Winter Sports showed its ugly head, purple eyes becoming strangely reminiscent of his brother when he was faced with a challenge.

"I'd like to see you try, old man." Gilbert squawked, laughing nervously as that frightening aura filled the room, looking all around before shouting nervously.

"You're scary when you're challenged!"


	5. Flaws (6- Cooking Dinner)

A/n: I read in a book in 10th grade that whenever u have a scene w/ a dinner that's included in a novel it means that Important Shit Must Go Down at that dinner…. Neheh….

XXXXX

At some point or another, Gilbert would have to move into his home. Canada was sure of it.

It wasn't that he _liked_ the fact that Gilbert wasn't really a nation anymore, and so had no place in politics, it was more that he wanted to spend all the time they had together they possibly could.

Gilbert, however, wasn't that amicable to that, claiming he wasn't going to be dead any time soon. Which was probably really untrue, considering how Russia owned Kaliningrad and the Eastern half of Germany was technically Ludwig's possession.

At the moment, it was 1998, and Gilbert was making dinner, something he was excited to do. "I like cooking." He admitted. "I did it a lot during my times with allies, since Roderich and Liz cannot cook to save their lives."

"What about Germany?" Matthew asked, polite, and Gilbert frowned.

"You know…. You _can_ call him Ludwig, it's not like he doesn't know about us..." The man said, slowly, giving Matthew an odd look, before he went back to making his potato soup.

But, Canada thought to himself, it wasn't really proper, given that Germany was a state, and a nation. Gilbert was kind of a nation still, but not _really_ even now, if you defined a nation as a group of people who identified under a title, and a nation in their sense as the personification of that group of humans.

"I'd feel better if we talked more about that, Germany and I, I mean." Matthew specified, and Gilbert's frown deepened.

"I don't understand." He said, looking suspiciously at Matthew. "I call Alfred, Arthur, and Francis by their names. I'm 100% sure that you do the same, but I'm not nearly as close to them as you are- namely Arthur and Francis." He pointed out, uncertain. "But _my_ family- Feli, Liz, Lutz, and Roderich- you always refer to them by their nation title."

His eyes widened, before he scowled at Matthew, turning from his pot altogether and staring at him.

Matthew felt his stomach drop for whatever the reason, the look Gilbert was giving him was so poisonous, he hadn't seen it since the Cold War, and he'd only seen it directed at _him_ at the end of World War I!

"Why are you looking at me like that, Gilbert?" He said, but his voice was hollow- he knew that Gilbert had caught on to it.

"Prussia." Gilbert growled, his voice firm, guttural. "Call me Prussia. If you're going to refer to my family by their title names- do the same for me."

"But, Gilbert." Canada said, getting defensive, but only seeming to enrage him further.

"Oh, is that it? Why won't you say my name?" He narrowed his eyes, and Canada hated that his lover was so far in denial that he would be upset about this.

"But you're not Prussia…not anymore. Prussia doesn't _exist_ , Gilbert- you're…you're not a nation, but they are. I need to be respectful, since they're all nations and I know almost nothing about them. You don't need to worry about that, not anymore..."

The man's eyes widened, and he laughed, the sound hollow, and not filled with happiness like it usually was.

"Figures." He said, voice low, clearly upset. He turned around, and turned off the stovetop, before pouring out the pot of soup in the sink.

Matthew grew alarmed. "Gil!" He said, going to stop him, but Gilbert glared, enraged.

"Oh! You're going to have the balls to keep calling me that!" He said, laughing out of anger now. "Figures! It figures, that the moment I think I find someone who genuinely likes me, they wind up to be another sack of shit!" He laughed again, angry, upset. "Just like France, you know." He laughed, louder still. "I can't tell you how many times he told me I'd never amount to anything, in the whole span of time I lacked a people. I lacked people for hundreds of years! I can live when I don't have one. Just because I'm stronger than you sorry assholes doesn't mean you can start being so familiar with me, clearly!"

He turned tail, muttering angrily in German, and Matthew was cowed. He had no idea that Gilbert felt this strongly about this issue, but Matthew wasn't wrong! He wasn't! 

"You're living in denial Gilbert!" He said, shouting after him as the man packed up his things. "I'm trying to help you, so that we can be together as long as!"

"As long as what, Matthew?" Gilbert purred, cutting him off, the voice lacking any seduction, any emotion, other than rage just beneath the surface.

"For as long as you're alive." Matthew finished, unwilling to back down.

Gilbert looked entirely offended. "Wow. Well, that's fine and dandy." He purred, smiling without humor. "Or, it would be, if we were still together." Red eyes glared into purple. "Since if you think we're still together after what you said, I'm not the one living in denial."

Matthew stared, horrified, fumbling for understanding and justification, even as Gilbert grabbed the rest of his things, muttering in German still, though now it seemed lower, angrier.

"Oh, and." He growled flatly, using the nation-speak. "Two instances of why I'm still a nation." He smiled again, the look angry and upset. "One, this." He said in nation-speak once again. "And two."

And Gilbert disappeared, vanishing into thin air.

He had jumped, like some nations were known to be able to do. They could only jump back to one place- their birthplace, but that would be in Europe, and as it was, it was nearing 10 o'clock at night, in Matthew's current position, and it would be impossible to get a plane to Germany and find him before Gilbert had spread the news to everyone.

Gilbert's dinner down the drain at this point, both literally and metaphorically, Matthew sighed, and got out a microwave dinner, setting it in and turning it on, putting his face in his hands, and wondering why he had pushed it. Yes, he wanted Gilbert to understand where it was coming from, but Gilbert was a proud man, and he was right in that he had survived plenty of years as he was now.

And now they were over.

It hit him hard once it hit.

Gilbert had broken up with him.

" _I hate being pitied!" Gilbert had said, shortly after their first date in 1992. "I_ _ **despise**_ _it, actually. I didn't get to this point by giving up, no. I made it to where I am today because I fought tooth and nail to stay alive even when the world thinks I'm going to die." He laughed. "Actually, within minutes of being born, people were already trying to kill me. I've been good about staying alive, and I have no intention of fading any time soon!"_

Shit… he had fucked up; he had fucked up so badly. Yes, he wanted Gilbert to move in, but that argument, being so blunt about what he thought- it would have done nothing but offend Gilbert in the highest degree anyway, so why did he think it was a good idea? He had no idea, he knew that Gilbert wasn't planning on fading, he knew that Gilbert was a patient man.

No wonder he had gotten mad- it seemed like Matthew had already accepted his death sentence! It had been callous, even though Matthew was trying to be realistic and honest.

And it had backfired spectacularly. And now, Matthew couldn't apologize- there wouldn't be a point…Gilbert had broken up with him.

And so, the tears just started falling, Matthew curling up on the floor and crying even as he heard his microwave meal finish and the microwave begin beeping at him.

He cried, until his food was cold and the world felt wrong, so terribly wrong, since in the end, Gilbert's tendencies didn't end their relationship- no.

Matthew's flaw of being too blunt and harping on the wrong problems did. And unlike Alfred, who was willing to reconcile with his brother after being yelled at for 3 hours, Gilbert wasn't one of those people who would sit through being talked down to like that. No, he had just left- like he should have.

And perhaps, that was the worst part, since it was only his fault.


	6. Getting Back Together (7- A proposal)

To say that talking to Gilbert for the rest of the 90s was a pain would be a horrific understatement.

For one, Germany refused to let Canada near him, and whenever asked about "Gilbert", Germany would play dumb, as would Hungary, Austria, Italy, Switzerland and Liechtenstein. They would only call him Gilbert when they thought Matthew wasn't in the conversation. To Matthew, they would only recognize who he was talking about when he said _Prussia_.

It was awfully annoying, and France had to ask, _what the fuck did you do to piss them off?_

However, Matthew wasn't ready to dignify that with an answer, and so had to wallow in his own mistake of offending the proud Germanic ex-nation. He still didn't see him, Prussia, at meetings, but…He had a feeling it wasn't that Germany didn't invite him to them, it was probably that he didn't want to see Matthew.

Understandable.

"Al, what do I do?" He asked one night over drinks, the two of them loving the lower drinking age in the European country hosting the World Meeting.

"What did you do?" Alfred asked, sipping his beer. "Cause', I've never seen Germany or any of them get so defensive about Gil- they're not letting you call him that, at all?" He laughed. "What'd you do? Where you dating him or something?"

Matthew frowned, taking a deep sip of his own alcoholic beverage, and Alfred paused, looking at him in confusion. "Holy shit." He muttered, staring at him. "You were dating Gilbert, weren't you?"

"He broke up with me." Matthew explained. "We got into a fight…"

"Over _what_?" Alfred asked, baffled. "I mean, you both seem pretty chill, yeah he has a flaw of being too obnoxious." Matthew muttered to himself about how the _pot was calling the kettle black_ , "But! You've never been that…well, that confrontational." He thought for a moment. "Wait- there was that one time where you spent three hours yelling at me 'cause I was annoying…" He thought back, before looking to Matthew, horrified. "Bro, I'm cool with getting knocked down, I'm on top of the world and you're my brother. I'll take it from you- but I won't take it from a nation who I'm dating…" He said, rolling his eyes. "Duh. I can't choose who's related to me, but I can choose which dick is getting friendly with mine!"

Canada frowned. "I know, Alfred. I realized that a bit too late, though." He muttered, upset with himself. "I said a lot of things that were too callous."

America raised an eyebrow. "Gilbert's used to blunt terminology." He said, frowning. "Even if you said something blunt, he wouldn't just dump you- what'd you say to him?"

There was a heavy pause, and Matthew felt his tears dripping. "I told him that…he wasn't a nation anymore- I shouldn't have to call him Prussia, he's just Gilbert now."

His brother stared at him, horrified. "Holy shit, Matt." He squeaked. "Bro. That's not blunt, that's brutal. What else did you say?" 

"T-that, that I was only upset since I wanted to spend all the time we had available, together."

"Please tell me you didn't mean that you were treating him like he was already dying…?" Alfred groaned into his beer, but Matthew only nodded.

"I did…I told him I wanted to be together for as long as he was alive."

"Maaaaaaatt…." Alfred groaned, rubbing his temples in shock. "Holy fuck. No wonder they're all pissed at you…"

"I know." Canada said, upset and angry with himself. "He didn't even want to wait with me that night- he jumped. I didn't know that he could…"

"He _jumped_?" Alfred asked, shocked. "Bro. You pissed him off good."

"I know!" He yelled, trying to stop himself from crying. "I ruined it! He was so scared, of ruining us when he got drunk and told me that he wanted to go out with me! And it wasn't him that did it, it was me!"

Alfred stared, and set down his beer, asking to pay the tab for their drinks. "Speaking of getting drunk, you're drunk." Alfred grumbled. "I don't like being designated driver, but you need to get home, get some rest." He paused. "Try and at least find a way to apologize? I sincerely doubt that Gilbert is going to want anything to do with you, but…an apology still wouldn't go amiss. But, when you're not drunk." Alfred instructed, picking Matthew up like a ragdoll after paying the tab.

"…. Kay." Matthew sniffled, hating how his brother was just able to pick him up, like he weighed nothing, but allowed the manhandling since he was able to start crying against his shirt.

XXXXX

At the German Brothers Reunification party, on October 3rd in the second millennia that he had been alive, Matthew was finally ready to talk with Prussia, and apologize for his callousness, bluntness, and wrongness in saying those things about him.

Surprisingly, Germany let him through, though he still gave him a rather bitter look.

Prussia was sitting at a table, content to drink alone before the festivities began, when he looked up at Matthew, and raised an eyebrow.

"So you did come." He said, using nation-speak despite how Matthew knew the man spoke fluent English.

He didn't call him out, instead nodding, using the nation language as well. "I did- I saw your invitation. I was curious why you invited me."

Prussia shrugged. "This is my second time seeing the first digit on the year change in this calendar." He said, drinking beer.

"Do you ever not drink?" Canada asked, frowning, and Prussia shook his head.

"Course not. I've enjoyed alcohol since well before I was an established nation." He said, stubborn. "Knowing its bad for me can't change that habit now."

Matthew felt his chest tighten. He couldn't breathe. Gilbert smiled but he had seen it before- this smile now wasn't reaching his eyes. He looked rather insincere.

"Prussia- I'm sorry." Canada cut to the chase, looking down and avoiding Prussia's gaze.

"For what?" He asked, expecting more than that.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't just callous- I was wrong to assume things like that about you, I was wrong, to refuse to call you by your title. You're still a nation. I was foolish in assuming that how you are now reflects the entire future." Matthew was crying a bit, but tried to cover up his upset.

Gilbert softened as he stared at him, and nodded slowly, thoughtful. "Matthew…" He murmured, using his human name. "You really, really upset me, hurt me." The albino pulled Matthew down onto his lap. "I can't just…let it go, that you did that, since it was very personal, and you didn't back down when I got upset." He said, even as he hugged him.

"I know. I fucked us up, and its all my fault." He was crying weakly, and Gilbert sighed, wiping his cheek.

"You couldn't have known that I'm that sensitive about my nation status, I should have brought it up sooner, as a topic to not touch." Gilbert murmured. "So, I have a proposal. I'm not one to just…let shit go, but I'm willing to give you another try." 

Matthew looked at him, upset, but vaguely hopeful.

"I'm not moving in with you any time soon." The German said, firmly. "But, I still really like you, and it's obvious that you're actually really sorry about what you said." He smiled at him, before hugging him. "So, at the very least, can we try again? A relationship?"

Canada hiccupped, nodding quickly. "Yes, of course." His voice was hoarse. "I'd also like a drink, because dammit, Prussia…I love you, and I'm so sorry I hurt you, I didn't mean to but I'm sorry…" He clung to the man, as the older nation ordered drinks, and held him tighter.

"Well, glad to see you're recognizing why I do what I do." Prussia said, sarcastic. "And, I'm serious- either call my family by their human names, and call me Gil, or call us all by our country names. Don't pick and choose, okay?" Canada's small, fast nods earned him a kiss on the cheek, and the younger gladly remained on Gilbert's lap, more than happy with the fact, despite everything working against them, everything that told people that they wouldn't be the usual pair, that they might still work out.

Perhaps that was why Matthew was so happy he had Gilbert.


End file.
